ilifornia 

ional 

Llity 


PAUL 
GARDHS 


A  DRUMMER'S 
PARLOR  STORIES. 


SPECIAL  GUESTS  OF  THE  PROPRIETOR.' 
No  CHARGES" 

Another  Kind  of  Man.    Page 


A 

DRUMMER'S 
PARLOR 
STORIES 


PAUL  GARDINER 

The  Author  of  "  Vacation  Incidents,"  "Paul's  Adventuri 
To  Date,"  and  others. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

E.  J.  READ 


A.  P.  GARDINER 

New  York 

J898 


Copyright,  J898,  by  A.  P.  GARDINER. 


CONTENTS. 


A  RIDE  WITH  AN  ARKANSAS  PICNIC     -  43 

MORNING  OBSERVATIONS  IN  TAYLORVILLE   -  -        19 

HELPING  THE  BRIDE  ALONG                  ...  27 

OVER  DIAMOND  JOE'S  RAILROAD  : 

I.—  THE  MAN,  BOB,   I,   AND  THE  "RAZOR 

BACK"  37 

II.  —  BOB,  I,  AND  ANOTHER  MAN    .        -  45 

III.  —  ANOTHER  KIND  OF  A  MAN   -  51 

ON  THE  OTHER  FELLOW'S  TICKET       -        .  .        61 

DEATH  OF  THE  LOVED  UNKNOWN        -        .  .        71 

INTO  THE  MOONSHINE  COUNTRY  : 

I.—  I  KICKED  YOUR  DOG                       .  .        83 

II.  —  A  PIECE  OF  FRIENDLY  ADVICE      -  -        93 

III.—  You  MATCH  ME    .....  103 


2034586 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Frontispiece. 

"  '•Special  guests  of  the  proprietor.1     No  charges."  - 
The  Arkansas  Traveller    ....  13 

'^So  to  the  great  amusement  of  the  car  I  adopted 

temporarily,  the  orphan  "        -         -         -         -         14 

"  We  received  in  return  a  smile  "  15 

"  1  had  left  Bob  asleep  "         .....  2p 

"  On  the  '  Gossip's  Bench  '  "       -         .         .         .  21 

"  //  didn't  work  like  his  cob  pipe"  23 

"  Bob  wanted  to  pass  the  fan  to  the  bride  "          -  29 

'•  ;  Now  look  here,'  says  Bob  to  me"        -         -         .  31 

••Everything  in  readiness,  we  struck  out  for  the  citv  "  32 

"  '  Gentlemen,  you  might  find  it  more  comfortable  sit- 

ting on  my  veranda  '  "  38 

'•  The  '•razor  back'  winked  the  other  eye  when  he 

saw  us  retttrning  "  •         -         -         -         -40 

"  '  You  just  pick  me  out  a  box  of  the  white  ones  '  "  46 

''  With  an  inquiring  smile,  I  said  to  Bob  :   '  It's  ten 

per  day,  sure  '  "  53 

"  '  Special  guests  of  the  proprietor.'     No  charges  " 

(full  page)      ......  55 

••  Riding  over  and  back  we  busied  ourselves  figuring 

out  what  our  expenses  would  be  "  56 

'••A  visit  down  the  street  in  Houston  to  some  of  the 

cut  rate  ticket  brokers  "   .....         62 

"  I  was  to  pass  as  a  man  with  red  hair,  brown  mus- 
tache and  chin  whiskers,  a  scar  on  the  right 
cheek  bone  -------  64 


Page 

'  /  was  gently  assisted  over  the  platforms  and  into 

the  car"  (full page)          ....  65 

'Bob's  voice  I  could  hear,  as  he  told  the  conductor 
of  the  sick  friend  who  occupied  '  Lower  Number 
Six '" 67 

'They  find  themselves  seated  opposite  each  other  at 

dinner  table  "  -         -         73 

'  There  he  stood  in  his   long  linen    duster,  hat    in 

hand,  smiling  "  -         -         -         -         -         .  75 

'  He  chewed  the  end  of  an  unlit  cigar,  and  was  look- 
ing with  a  far-away,  sad  expression  out  of  the 
window  " 77 

'  To  satisfy  my  wavering  hopes,  I  read  again  and 

again  the  letter  "  •         -         -         -         -  85 

'  ;  Want  a  hotel,  young  feller  ?  '  says  he.     '  Only  one 

here  '" 87 

'  '  Now  slope  with  me,  young  one  !  '  "          -         -  88 

'  With  a  jerk  of  his  thumb    over   his  shoulder,  the 

clerk  indicated  where  the  boss  could  be  found  "  95 

'//<?  was  marking  the  retail  prices  upon  the  bottoms 

of  the  boxes"  .......         gg 

'•Looking  at  imaginary  pictures  on  the  walls,  I  lei- 
surely sauntered  out  of  sight  of  the  hotel  office"  105 

1  "-It's  heads— for  a  dollar"  "  ....        106 


A  Ride  with  an  Arkansas 
Picnic. 


A  Ride  with  an  Arkansas 
Picnic. 


in  Arkansas  in  the  mid- 
|B.I8|  die  of  July  is  not  indulged  in  by 
non-residents  of  that  part  of  the  country 
for  health  or  pleasure.  It  was  the  stern 
necessity  to  go  where  we  could  turn  a  dol- 
lar our  way,  which  was  chargeable  to  Bob 
Williamson  and  me  being  on  the  train 
which  was  to  pick  up  a  church  picnic  some- 
where between  Pine  Bluff  and  Little  Rock. 
The  day  was  one  of  the  hottest,  and  the 
dust  fought  with  the  soft  coal  cinders  for 
the  easiest  lodging  places  upon  our  linen 
dusters.  Bob  and  I  occupied  two  seats, 
arranged  facing  each  other.  We  buttoned 
our  dusters  up,  and  only  for  the  rakish 
way  in  which  our  handkerchiefs  were  tied 
around  our  necks  and  the  tilt  of  our  soft 
felt  hats,  we  might  have  been  mistaken 
fora  pair  of  native  parish  preachers.  Per- 
haps the  resemblance  is  what  furnished 
the  material  for  this  sketch. 
13 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


We  soon  arrived  at  a  small  station  where 
an  unusual  crowd  of  children,  accompanied 
by  their  mothers,  darky  "mammies,"  and 
overgrown  and  underfed  boys,  were  assem- 
bled. As  soon  as  the  train  came  to  a 
standstill  this  motley  array  fiercely  at- 
tacked the  entrances.  Bob  held  posses- 
sion of  our  two  seats  until  an  appeal  came 
before  him  in  this  way,  which  completely 
broke  down  his  resolution.  A  woman 
came  in  carrying  two  urchins,  apparently 
of  the  same  age,  herself  weighing  over  two 
hundred  pounds,  with  a  good-natured  face 
of  ruby  red,  her  hat  pushed  on  one  side, 
and  she  all  but  overcome  with  the  heat. 

"You    are 
welcome  to 
one    of    our 
seats,"  says 
Bob.      In  'a 
minute     we 
had  our  three 
new  neighbors 
facing  us    on    our 
extra  seat.     The 
extreme  heat  had 
made  the  children 
hard    to    manage, 
and  the  poor  woman 
was  exhausted. 

"Let  me  have  one 
of  your  children?  "en- 
quired Bob.  Yes,  she 
says,  certainly,  take  this  one.  Bob  played 
the  role  of  indulgent  father  with  such  suc- 
cess that  soon  his  charge  was  fast  asleep 
in  his  arms.  The  mother,  tired  with  the 
14 


"  SO  to  the  great  amusement  of 
Ui<>  whole  car  I  adopted,  tempora- 
rily, the  orphan." 


A  RIDE  WITH  AN  ARKANSAS  PICNIC. 


day's  efforts  and  having  perfect  confidence 
in   her   newly  made    acquaintances,   also 
goes  peacefully  to  sleep.     The  remaining 
baby,  left  to  fall  from  the  arms  of 
the  helpless  sleeper,  is  in  imminent 
peril.    I  reasoned  with  myself  thus, 
— if  Bob  had  nerve  enough  to  cap- 
ture   one  of  the    twins  while  the 
mother  was  awake,  I  certainly  am 
entitled  to  the  other  when  1  find 
it  asleep  and  in  danger.    So  to  the 
great  amusement  of  the 
whole  car  I  adopted,  tem- 
porarily, the  orphan. 

The  mother  slept  peace- 
fully on,  dreaming  of  the 
"pink  lemonade "  and  the 
"hot  tomales"  passed 
around  at  the  picnic,  'til 
a  rude  call  from  the  porter 
announcing  the  end  of 
the  ride  for  the  Sunday 
School,  the  sleeping 
woman  awoke  startled. 

With    a  Chesterfieldian 
bo  w  we  gave  back  the  chil- 
dren and  in  return  received 
a  smile,  which    meant 
more   from  this  grateful  mother  than  the 
remark  we  often  hear  in  higher  society, 
"Oh,  thank  you,  very  kind  of  you  I  am 
sure." 


We  received  in  return  a  smile.'' 


0 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


I  saw  him  in  a  lonely  room, 

A-pacing  to  and  fro; 
His  step  was  hurried  and  he  paused 

From  time  to  time  in  woe. 

His  face  was  buried  in  his  hands, 
His  tears  fell  thick  and  fast; 

"Oh,  from  these  tortured  eyes,"  cried  he, 
"  Has  peace  forever  passed  ?  " 

I  shared  his  grief:  the  poignant  words 

Came  sobbing  from  his  heart, 
And  so  I  tried  with  sympathy 

Some  solace  to  impart. 

But  all  he  said  was,  "Ne'er  like  me 
May  you  make  this  avowal — 

I've  washed  my  face  with  yellow  soap 
And  cannot  find  a  towel  !  " 


16 


Morning  Observations  in 
Taylorville. 


Morning  Observations 
in  Taylorville. 


WAS  prompted  by  one  of  those  stray 
ideas  that  carelessly  wander  through 
your  mind  at  times,  feeling  perfectly  safe 
that  they  will  never  be  detained,  because 
of  the  indifference  or  inability  of  the  pos- 
sessor of  that  mind  to  catch  on  to  a  "good 
thing."  This  particular  idea  was  to  get 
up  early,  and  board  a  morning  train  which 
passed  through  Decatur  at  sunrise  on  its 
way  to  St.  Louis,  and  get  off  at  Taylorville, 
a  distance  of  about  thirty  miles  down  the 
road.  I  could  then,  after  waiting  two 
hours  for  the  business  part  of  the  town 
to  awaken,  have  an  hour  in  which  to  pass 
the  time  with  the  unsuspecting  (?)  mer- 
chants, and  incidentally  have  them  admit, 
after  a  careful  manipulation  of  the  conver- 
sation, that  they  needed  something,  in  my 
line. 

19 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


I  had  left  Bob  asleep,  but  he  was  car- 
rying on  an  animated  controversy  with  a 
couple  of  persistent 
flies,  who  always  in- 
sist that  "drum- 
mer s"  are  entitled 
to  all  there  is  to  be 
had  for  their  money 
at  cheap  hotels.  I 
left  word  at  the  of- 
fice that,  as  a  penal- 
ty for  his  not  being 


wakeful  and  atten- 
tive to  business,  he 
could  pay  my  bills 


1  /  had  left  Bo6  asleep.' 


and  carry  my  baggage  to  the  depot,  and  I 
\vould  be  on  the  train  we  had  planned  to 
take  the  night  before,  which  would  leave 
Decatur  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Walking  from  the  station,  which  was  an 
eighth  of  a  mile  outside  of  the  town  of 
Taylorville,  that  lovely  Summer's  morn- 
ing, with  nobody  to  talk  to  nor  any  noise 
to  disturb  me,  it  seemed  a  good  chance  to 
observe  things.  The  first  observation  was 
that  the  sun  was  up  just  far  enough  to 
show  the  sparkling  of  the  dew  on  the  broad 
leaves  of  corn  which  could  be  seen  for  miles 
around  the  town.  Corn  raising  was  the  in- 
dustry in  that  section.  The  people  you  met 
talked  about  corn,  they  lived  on  corn, 
and  corn  growing  was  their  only  business. 
And  thus  it  was  when  a  new-comer  pranced 
into  town  at  that  time  of  morning  in  the 
corn  growing  season  carrying  an  indis- 
putable air  and  manner  about  him  that 
plainly  said,  "Well!  the  whole  country  is 

20 


MORNING  OBSERVATIONS  IN  TAYLORVILLE. 


not  engaged  in  corn  raising,"  that  three  of 
the  "oldest  citizens"  \vere  surprised  011 
the  "gossip's  bench." 

Taylorville  was  then  composed  of  one 
principal  square,  having  one-story  buildings 
fronting  on  all  sides.  The  centre  of  the 
square  is  used  for  an  open  market-place 
and  hitching  posts  for  farm  teams. 

Sitting  in  front  of  one  of  these  buildings, 


which  had  a  lean-to  roof  as  an  awning 
over  the  sidewalk,  were  three  typical  old 
characters  of  that  region ;  one  chewed  the 
end  of  a  straw,  one  whittled  a  stick,  and 
21 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

all  three  wore  the  same  style  of  clothing, 
cut  from  the  bolt  of  blue  jeans  at  the  cor- 
ner store.  All  three  were  tall,  thin,  and 
sat  with  the  grapevine  twist  to  their 
legs. 

"  Good  morning,  gentlemen,"  I  said,  as  I 
walked  briskly  up  to  them.  "Could  you 
tell  me  where  I  can  find  the  hotel  ?  " 

Each  looked  at  the  other,  one  made  as 
though  to  speak,  then  the  third  man  said  : 

"You  might  try  over  thar." 

I  hurried  over  the  street  and  found  what 
served  as  a  hotel.  Leaving  my  order  for  a 
breakfast  of  ham  and  eggs,  (the  standing 
order  when  in  doubt  as  to  the  cuisine  de- 
partment), I  sallied  forth  again,  this 
time  in  search  of  a  barber.  Meeting  my 
acquaintances  once  more,  I  inquired  for 
the  town  barber.  The  spokesman  this 
time  untwined  his  legs,  and  giving  me  a 
look  ofcuiious  interest,  said: 

"  I  think  I  kin  show  you." 

"Come  along,"  I  said,  "looks  to  be  a 
fine  day." 

"  Good  growin'  corn  weather,"  says  he. 

Arriving  at  the  door  of  the  barber  shop, 
I  saw  a  case  of  cigars  inside. 

"  Will  you  smoke,  sir  ?  "  I  inquired. 

With  a  childish  bashfulness  he  accepted 
the  cigar,  with  a  light,  which  I  handed 
him. 

Turning  to  prepare  for  the  shave,  I  re- 
moved my  coat,  collar  and  tie.  ,  Then 
glancing  back  at  my  new  found  friend,  I  saw 
he  was  having  trouble.  The  end  of  the  cigar 
was  all  ablaze,  but  despite  the  tremendous 
efforts  he  made,  no  smoke  was  visible  from 
22 


MORNING  OBSERVATIONS  IN  TAYLOKVILLE. 


the  right  end  of  the  cigar.    •  He  had  just  dis- 

covered the  "  durn  thing"  didn't  work  like 

his  cob  pipe.  I  turned  away 

to  hide  my  amusement  —  he 

had  failed  to  bite  off  the  end 

of  the  cigar.      I  saw  in  the 

mirror  that  he,  thinking  no 

one  was    looking,  quickly 

stumped  out  the  fire,  placed 

the    cigar  carefully  in  the 

pocket    of  his    blue  jean 

trousers  and  hurried  out  to 

investigate  further  while 

hoeing  among  the  rows  of 

corn,   promising    himself 

never  to  let  another    new- 

comer disturb    his  peaceful 

thoughts. 


It  didn't  work  like  Ms  cnb  pipe." 


Helping  the  Bride  Along. 


Helping  the  Bride  Along. 


|NE  of  the    incidents    which   become 

familiar  to  the  constant  traveller  is 

the  encountering  of  wedding  parties,  with 
the  attendant  "send  off"  by  friends  at 
the  railroad  stations,  and  the  showers 
of  rice  thrown  in  at  the  windows  upon  the 
other  passengers.  Such  experiences  hap- 
pening to  the  same  persons  at  frequent  in- 
tervals during  a  trip,  are  calculated  to  de- 
stroy the  pretty  romances  and  visions  of 
cupids  which  flutter  about  the  bridal  pair. 
By  the  quick-eyed  salesman,  all  the  little 
ruses  ad  opted  by  newly- wed  couples  to  con- 
ceal from  the  travelling  public  their  identity 
as  bride  and  groom,  are  seen  through  at  a 
glance. 

27 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


On  the  occasion  of  which  I  write,  it  was 
not  the  customary  tactics  of  wedding 
couples  which  interested  Bob  and  myself, 
but  rather  the  peculiarities  of  the  groom, 
his  dress,  and  more  particularly,  the  atti- 
tude he  assumed  toward  his  bride  and  fel- 
low passengers.  His  self-consciousness, 
and  above  all,  his  boorishness  toward  his 
pretty  companion,  were  so  apparent  that 
the  sympathies  of  the  nearby  passengers 
were  soon  enlisted  with  his  "better  half." 

The  groom  (who,  by  the  way,  sat  oppo- 
site us)  evidently  had  a  few  points  in 
mind  which  he  felt  necessary  to  impress 
upon  the  company.  The  first  was  that  he 
had  just  been  married,  the  second,  that  he 
had  on  his  best  clothes,  and  thirdly,  he 
wanted  no  interference  with  his  bride  by 
outsiders. 

It  was  this  last  named  resolution  that 
Bob  "ran  up  against"  principally,  in  his 
efforts  to  "help  the  bride  along."  He 
seemed  to  be  one  of  those  fellows  who  are 
unwilling  to  admit  with  an  easy  grace  that 
the  surroundings  and  situations  are  new 
to  them  and  that  they  would  be  glad  to 
receive  any  little  suggestions  or  informa- 
tion to  be  had  from  their  fellow  travellers, 
but  who  rather  assume  an  air  of  "know- 
ing it  all "  which  is  a  certain  indication  of 
ignorance. 

As  to  the  second  point,  it  may  first  be  re- 
marked that  June  weddings  in  Arkansas 
might  be  more  popular  if  the  contracting 
parties  would  adopt  a  travelling  trousseau 
suited  to  the  demands  of  the  climate.  The 
middle  of  June  down  there  is  a  warm  time, 

28 


HELPING  THE  BRIDE  ALONG. 


and  a  favorite  costume  of  the  male  sex, 
which  allows  for  a  certain  amount  of  style 
and  a  whole  lot  of  comfort,  is  made  up  of 
a  black  lustre  coat,  a  pair  of  light-weight 
trousers,  negligee  shirt,  low  shoes  and 
straw  hat. 

But  as  for  our  groom's  attire,  suffice  it  to 
say  that  he  was  done  up  in  a  very  •warm 
black,  a  rural  high  hat  with  a  sack  coat, 


"  Bob  wanted  to  pass  thtfan  to  the  brttle." 

black  kid  gloves,  a  turn-do wn  collar  and  a 
watch  chain  which  would  have  done  coup- 
ling service  for  the  train. 

After  riding  along  for  a  half  hour,  the 
heat  and  dust  in  the  car  seemed  almost  un- 
29 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


bearable,  and  our  neighbor  looked  more 
aggressive  each  time  we  glanced  his  way. 

Bob  wielded  a  large  sized  palm-leaf  fan, 
and  having  besides  the  proper  kind  of  cloth- 
ing for  comfort,  we  seemed  to  get  along 
very  well.  Bob  wanted  to  pass  the  fan  to 
the  bride,  but  each  time  he  looked  her  wa\r 
he  met  the  discouraging  look  of  her  ' '  liege 
lord."  Not  to  be  baffled,  at  length  he 
reached  across  the  aisle  and  politely  of- 
fered her  the  fan.  As  the  groom  was  hesi- 
tating \vhether  it  might  give  him  more 
trouble  to  accept  it,  the  lady  smiled  and 
thanked  him  for  his  thoughtfulness. 

We  were  proceeding  along  our  way  with- 
out further  incident  when  suddenly  the  train 
came  to  an  unexpected  stop.  Hurrying 
out,  I  found  that  the  tracks  ahead  were 
blockaded  by  a  freight  wreck,  and  that  we 
were  three  miles  distant  from  Little  Rock. 
A  few  enterprising  cabbies  had  driven  out 
from  the  city,  and  they  were  quickly  appro- 
priated by  those  in  the  forward  cars. 

We  soon  realized  that  we  must  get  some 
conveyance  to  carry  our  sample  trunks  into 
town  or  the  day  would  be  entirely  lost,  our 
competitors  thus  gaining  a  day's  lead  on 
us.  We  were  not  in  despair  long,  however, 
for  not  many  moments  later  Bob  espied 
approaching  an  old  horse  and  weather- 
beaten  wagon  with  a  colored  driver. 
Swooping  down  on  the  inoffensive  old  nig- 
ger, we  took  possession  of  his  outfit.  No 
argument  was  made  over  the  price,  nor  did 
we  tell  what  we  wanted  the  rig  for.  I 
drove  the  wagon  up  to  the  end  of  the  train 
30 


HELPING  THE  BRIDE  ALONG. 

where  the  baggage-car  stood,  and  together 
we  hustled  our  trunks  in. 

We  had  just  turned  about  to  make  the 
start  for  Little  Rock  and  the  hotel,  when 


'  Now  look  here,1  says  Bob  to  me. 


there  beside  the  wreck  we  beheld  a  picture 
of  helplessness, — the  bride  and  her  "Jonah," 
the  groom. 

"Now  look  here,"   says  Bob  to  me,  "I 
don't  think  it  right  to  leave  this  poor  girl 
31 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES 


Everything  in  readiness,  we  struck  i 


Singing  through  the  forests, 

Rattling  over  ridges; 
Shooting  under  arches, 

Rumbling  over  bridges; 
Whizzing  through  the  mountains, 

Buzzing  o'er  the  vale, — 
Bless  me  !  this  is  pleasant, 

Riding  on  the  rail ! 


Men  of  different  "  stations  " 

In  the  eye  of  fame, 
Here  are  very  quickly 

Coming  to  the  game; 
High  and  lowly  people, 

Birds  of  every  feather, 
On  a  common  level, 

Travelling  together. 

—  John  G.  Saxe. 


HELPING   THE  BRIDE  ALONG. 


out  here  with  that  'chump'  of  a  husband.  If 
we  do  she  will  have  to  lead  him  all  the  way 
to  town  afoot. ' '  So  throwing  aside  furtheV 
ceremony,  Bob  goes  up  to  the  couple  and 
sharply  demands  from  the  fellow  the  check 
for  their  trunk. 

Two  valises  comprised  their  baggage,  and 
ourcolored  man  placed  them  in  the  wagon. 
Bob,  meanwhile,  gallantly  helped  the  bride 
over  the  wheel  and  seated  her  upon  the 
sample  trunk,  the  groom  still  sullenly  act- 
ing as  though  things  should  be  different, 
but  not  even  removing  his  black  kid  gloves 
to  help  load  the  baggage.  Everything  in 
readiness,  we  struck  out  for  the  city. 

After  we  had  gone  about  two  miles,  we 
came  across  the  street-car  track.  Seeing 
in  the  distance  a  mule-car  approaching,  we 
then  suggested  to  the  bride  that  perhaps  it 
would  be  pleasanter  for  her  to  take  the 
groom  aboard  the  car,  and  we  \vould  guar- 
antee the  safe  delivery  of  the  valises  at  the 
hotel  if  she  could  look  after  her  husband. 


Over  Diamond  Toe's  Railroad.  <£• 


I.—  The  Man,  Bob,  I,  and  the  '"Razor  Back/ 

II.  —  Bob,  I,  and  Another  Man, 

III.  —  Another  Kind  of  a  Man, 


The  Man,  Bob,  I,  and  the 
"  Razor  Back.' 


spent  several  weeks  in  Arkansas 
travelling  aimlessly  about,  only  now 
and  then  making  a  sale  of  goods.  It 
was  very  necessary  to  procure  some  orders 
to  accompany  the  frequent  requests  we 
made  on  our  firms  for  remittances  to  pay 
our  daily  expenses.  The  orders  themselves 
(needless  to  say)  were  never  very  large; 
but  the  promises  for  better  results,  should 
we  be  allowed  to  come  again,  were  of  a 
very  roseate  hue. 

Before  leaving  the  scenes  of  our  late  ex- 
ploits, we  \vere  desirous  of  visiting  the  one 
place  of  interest  which  takes  rank  far  and 
37 


./  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

above  anything  else  in  the  state,  or  in 
fact  the  whole  United  States.  It  is  known 
as  the  Monte  Carlo  of  America,— the  Mecca 
of  the  gambler,  the  retreat  of  the  invalid, 


•Memrn,  you  might  find  it  more  comfortaM,'  sitting  on  my  veranda,:' 


and  the  delight  of  the  pleasure  tourist— the 
Hot  Springs  of  Arkansas. 

Malvern  Junction  is  the  name  of  the  sta- 
tion where  Diamond  Joe's  narrow  gauge 
railroad  emerges  from  the  grim  mountain 
38 


THE  MAN,  BOB,  /,  AND  THE  "RAZOR   BACK." 


defiles  and  connects  with  the  Iron  Moun- 
tain R.  R.  system.  Here  is  where  our  ex- 
periences began  as  tourists  for  pleasure. 
We  had  about  an  hour  to  wait  before  the 
train  of  narrowly-built  cars  would  leave 
to  take  us  through  the  rocky  passes  to  Hot 
Springs.  We  loitered  about  the  station, 
looking  at  the  axle  grease  frying  in  the 
Summer's  sun  on  the  car  tracks,  while  the 
"razor  back"  hogs  critically  nosed  our 
baggage  on  the  platform. 

Very  soon  we  were  approached  by  a  man 
who  looked  not  at  all  like  the  Mary's  Lit- 
tle Lamb  variety,  but  the  soft  gentleness 
of  his  voice  as  he  volunteered  a  remark, 
was  the  cause  for  both  a  surprise  and  an 
uneasiness  to  us  later  on.  He  said  : 

"  Gentlemen, you  might  find  it  morecom- 
ibrtable  sitting  on  my  veranda  till  the 
train  arrives." 

We  looked  across  the  tracks  and  saw  a 
very  unpretentious,  low  front,  rough  board 
structure,  with  a  sign  over  the  door  which 
read,  "Railroad  Hotel."  The  stranger 
seeming  so  very  kind,  and  we  not  being  com- 
fortable where  we  were,  we  took  in  the 
bait  and  strolled  across. 

We  had  no  more  than  settled  ourselves 
on  his  rough  benches  when  a  voice  from 
the  rear  fell  upon  our  unsuspecting  ears  so 
rough  and  full  of  ominous  meaning  that 
we  looked  up  with  a  start  to  see  who  the 
ruffian  might  be.  Imagine  our  surprise 
when  standing  over  us,  we  recognized  our 
solicitous  friend  of  the  lamb-like  gentleness. 
He  had  announced  that  supper  was  ready 
and  we  had  just  ten  minutes  in  which  to 
39 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


eat  it.  There  was  no  doubting  his  mean- 
ing,— it  was  simply  this, — he  wanted  a  dol- 
lar apiece  out  of  us  !  I  looked  at  Bob,  he 
looked  at  the  man,  then  both  of  us  started 


for  the  dining-room.  Nothing  was  said 
and  a  very  little  was  eaten.  We  paid  over 
the  money  without  even  the  privilege  of 
registering  a  single  objection,  then  calmly 
walked  back  again  across  the  tracks  to  the 
40 


THE  MAN,  BOB,  /,  AND    THE  -RAZOR  BACK." 

railroad  platform.  I  knocked  my  fist 
against  the  open  palm  of  my  other  hand, 
Bob  showed  his  white  teeth,  and  the  "razor 
back"  winked  the  other  eye  as  he  saw  us 
returning. 


II. 

Bob,  I,  and  Another  Man. 


Bob,  I,  and  Another  Man. 


JFTER  gathering  together  our  shat- 
tered courage  and  seeing  our  bag- 
gage put  aboard  the  train,  the  start  was 
made  for  Hot  Springs.  Some  young  sports 
of  the  neighborhood  stood  on  the  plat- 
form of  the  car  and  discharged  their  re- 
volvers at  whatever  chanced  to  take  their 
fancy,  so  that  from  the  beginning  of  this 
short  ride  events  of  interest  followed  one 
another  in  quick  succession. 

Bob  and  I  were  conversing  in  whispers 
over  our  treatment  at  the  hands  of  the 
hotel-keeper  at  Malvern  Junction  and 
wondering  what  would  be  the  nature  of 
the  next  experience,  when  we  became  con- 
scious that  somebodvwas  standing  at  our 
45 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

side  awaiting  recognition.  Looking  up, 
we  saw  a  large  man  with  a  flowing 
black  beard,  wide-rimmed  felt  hat,  broad 
shouldered,  and  wearing  a  pair  of  blue  gog- 
gles. 

But  for  a  sign  hanging  across  his  breast 
which  read,  "Help  the  Blind,"  we  might 
have  taken  him  for  a  prosperous  native 
Arkansan.  A  large  tray  hung  suspended  by 
a  strap  around  his  neck,  containing  several 
small  crates  of  long  blackberries.  He  edged 
his  way  into  our  cross-seat,  sat  himself 


"  Ton  justplck  me  out  a  box  of  the  white  ones." 

clown  comfortably,  and  immediately  began 
to  talk  to  us  in  an  interesting  manner, 
knowing  apparently  our  vocation  in  life, 
and  the  section  of  the  country  from  which 
we  came. 

Bob,  whose  suspicions  had  been  aroused 
by  the  recent  happenings,  did  not  intend 
this  time  to  be  so  easily  worked  for  "a 
46 


BOB,  7,   AND  ANOTHER  MAN. 

tenderfoot,"  so  he  ventured  the  query, 
' '  Selling  berries  ?  ' ' 

"Yes;  won't  you  buy  a  box  ?  They  are 
fresh,"  he  suavel~y  replied. 

There  were  boxes  of  blacks  and  other 
boxes  mixed  with  white  blackberries. 

"Are  the  blacks  and  whites  the  same 
price  ?  "  says  Bob. 

"Yes,  the  same  price,  stranger,"  said  he. 

"Well,"  answered  Bob,  "you  just  pick 
me  out  a  box  of  the  white  ones  while  I  hunt 
for  my  change." 

The  trick  was  superbly  worked.  The 
fake  "  blind  man  "  quickly  selected  the  box 
of  white  blackberries  from  his  tray,  but 
just  as  quickly  discovered  the  trap  he  had 
fallen  into.  Just  then  the  train  pulled  into 
Hot  Springs,  thus  saving  the  "  sharp  "  any 
further  embarrassment.  On  inquiry,  we 
learned  at  the  station  that  this  poor  blind 
man  was  the  most  successful  "bunco 
steerer"  and  gambler  in  the  town. 


47 


III. 

Another  Kind  of  a  Man. 


Another  Kind  of  a  Man. 


I  HE  adventures  we  had  met  with  since 
we  started  on  our  little  pleasure  trip 
were  not  calculated  to  inspire  a  great 
amount  of  confidence  in  the  acquaintances 
we  were  making  in  that  particular  section, 
and  thus  it  happened  when  Bob  was  ap- 
proached in  a  familiar  manner  by  a  gentle- 
man who  said  that  he  hailed  from  the  same 
town  as  he  did,  back  in  Ohio,  that  he  was 
inclined  to  resent  his  advances. 

This  gentleman  informed  us  that  he  was 
the  proprietor  of  one  of  the  best  hotels  in 
the  place  and  that  for  old  acquaintance 
sake  he  would  be  pleased  to  entertain  us 
during  our  stay  at  Hot  Springs.  We  hesi- 
tated before  accepting  the  invitation,  both 
51 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

of  us  thinking  very  hard  of  what  dangers, 
if  any,  we  would  be  subjected  to  should 
we  accept.  Knowing  that  we  would  be 
as  safe  in  one  hotel  as  another,  however,  -we 
decided  to  take  our  chances  with  Bob's 
friend. 

Our  hand  bags  were  taken  in  charge  by 
the  'bus  man,  who  drove  us  rapidly  to  the 
large  and  prosperous  looking  hotel  of 
which  Bob's  acquaintance  was  the  pro- 
prietor. The  sumptuous  offices  and  luxu- 
riously furnished  parlors  which  were  visible 
from  the  clerk's  desk,  at  which  we  were 
writing  our  names  upon  the  register,  had 
a  panicky  effect  upon  our  spirits.  I  myself 
thought  I  could  see  five  dollars  per  day, 
easily,  charged  for  our  accommodations, 
even  though  we  might  secure  the  lowest 
priced  apartments. 

The  clerk  received  a  word  of  instruction 
from  his  employer  which  was  sufficient  to 
start  us  immediately  toward  the  rooms 
assigned  to  us  upon  the  second  floor.  We 
were  not  held  with  the  other  arrivals  to 
await  the  pleasure  of  the  room  clerk  mag- 
nate. 

We  were  shown  up  to  two  of  the  best 
rooms  in  the  house.  The  inviting  enameled 
bath  tubs,  soft  carpeted  floors,  the  immac- 
ulately white  linen  which  covered  the 
double  beds,  and  the  bevelled  French  plate 
mirrors  that  reflected  our  full-sized  figures, 
caught  our  attention  in  a  second  of  time. 

We  dismissed  the  colored  porter,  \vith  a 

liberal  tip.    His  manner  toward  us  had 

very  plainly  indicated  that  no    one  who 

could  be  so  rash  as  to  engage  those  particu- 

52 


ANOTHER  KIND  OF  A  MAN. 


lar  rooms  would  dare  to  bow  him  out  with 
a  smile  and  a  promise. 

The  door  closed,  we  each  turned  and 
silently  walked  toward  the  centre  of  the 
room.  My  hands  were  pushed  down  deep 
into  my  trouser  pockets.  It  was  very  evi- 


"  With  an  inquiring  smllt,  I  said  to  Bob: — 'It's  ten  per  Hay,  sure.'" 

dent  that  we  were  not  in  any  easy  state  of 
mind.  With  an  inquiring  smile,  I  said  to 
Bob:— 

"  It's  ten  per  day,  sure." 

"Well,  don't  it  look  to  be  cheap  even  at 
that?"  said  he.  "We  will  have  money 
some  day,  and  I  intend  to  make  these  peo- 
53 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES.- 


pie  around  this  place  think  we  have  plent}' 
of  the  'golden  clinkers'  right  now." 

Our  rooms  were  sumptuously  furnished — 
such  elegance  we  had  not  been  accustomed 
to  for  weeks.  Comparing  our  appearance 
to  the  furnishings  of  our  quarters,  it  would 
be  very  apparent  that  we  were  either  a 
couple  of  foreign  aristocrats  travelling  in 
disguise,  or  by  accident  had  gotten  into 
the  wrong  place.  Hurriedly  travelling  from 
place  to  place,  putting  up  with  poor  hotel 
accommodations,  suffering  all  kinds  of  dis- 
comforts from  the  intense  heat,  it  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at  that  we  should  have  lost 
considerable  in  personal  attractiveness. 
The  large  mirrors  showed  our  full  figures. 
Our  alpaca  coats,  once  black,  were  now  a 
sunburnt  brown  and  badly  wrinkled,  trou- 
sers bagged  at  the  knees,  linen  soiled,  while 
our  straw  hats  would  be  rejected  at  a 
Bowery  cleaning  establishment. 

Our  pride  w as  touched.  We  recalled  that 
at  home  we  enjoyed  a  reputation  of  being 
among  the  first  to  "catch  on "  to  the  new 
fads  in  men's  attire  as  they  came  out.  And 
why  shouldn't  we  occupy  fine  apartments  ? 
We  were  just  as  nice  people,  if  they  only 
knew  it,  as  any  who  came  to  that  hotel, 
and  thus  -we  argued.  Like  a  man  whist- 
ling while  going  through  a  graveyard  at 
night— he  wasn't  scared  at  all— oh,  no ! 
The  same  with  us,  as  we  speculated  on  the 
price  of  the  rooms.  We  weren 't  scared. 
Uneasy  though— just  a  bit  nervous. 

Our  trunks  by  this  time  had  reached  the 
rooms,  and  we  immediately  began  to  re- 
new acquaintance  with  our  wardrobe. 
54 


ANOTHER  KIND  Of  A  MAN. 


'  .w.clal  guests  of  the  proprietor. '    Xo  charget. " 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


The  balance  of  the  evening,  before  the  eight 
o'clock  dinner,  we  spent  very  creditably  to 
ourselves,  and  after  we  had  been  seated  in 
the  dining-room  a  rapid  survey  of  the 
guests  was  made.  After  which  Bob  re- 
marked, as  he  squared  his  shoulders  and 
stuck  out  his  chest : 

"Come,   old  pal,  you  flap  your  wings 
and  crow,  or  else  I  will." 


•l  Riding  over  and  bacJc  we  busted  oursciwsjiynring  out  what 
'  expenses  would  &«." 


The  next  morning  being  Sunday,  we  were 
offered  the  private  horse  and  carriage  of 
the  proprietor,  to  take  a  drive  over  to  the 
adjoining  springs,  a  distance  of  five  miles 
each  way.  Riding  over  and  back  we 
busied  ourselves  figuring  out  what  pur  ex- 
penses would  be,  provided  our  invitation 
was  of  the  same  nature  as  those  we  al- 
56 


ANOTHER  KIND  OF  A  MAN. 


ready  had  extended  to  us  during  the  past 
twenty-four  hours.  As  worrying  over  the 
matter  would  not  allow  us  to  enjoy  our 
beautiful  and  luxurious  surroundings,  we 
decided  to  leave  ourselves  in  the  hands  of 
our  friends  or  enemies,  whichever  they 
might  prove  to  be,  and  settle  up  accord- 
ingly. 

Monday  morning  came  all  too  soon.  We 
had  enjoyed  ourselves  immensely.  As  we 
came  up  to  the  office  desk  of  the  hotel  pre- 
pared to  settle  up,  we  were  informed  by  the 
polite  clerk,  whose  face  wore  a  broad  grin, 
that  we  were  entered  on  the  books  as 
"special  guests  of  the  proprietor."  No 
charges. 


57 


On  the  Other  Fellow's 
Ticket. 


On  the  Other  Fellow's 
Ticket. 


1ERY  often,  in  Texas,  the  situation  pre- 
sents itself  disagreeably  before  the 
commercial  traveller  in  this  form :  that  his 
railroad  fare  from  place  to  place  is  ex- 
ceeding the  profits  on  sales.  It  is  then  that 
the  spirit  of  economy  seizes  hold  upon  the 
troubled  salesman,  and  he  looks  about  him 
for  the  first  opportunity  to  cut  down  ex- 
penses. Hotel  charges,  Pulman  car  luxuries 
and  the  railroad  ticket,  each  now  comes  in 
for  a  turn  in  this  painful  process. 

Such  was  the  predicament  of  Bob  and 
me  when,  after  several  weeks  of  light  busi- 
ness in  the  state,  with  our  daily  expenses 
running  high,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  state 
of  mind  where  we  were  inclined  to  take 
desperate  chances. 

61 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


The  daily  train  over  the  Sunset  Route 
from  San  Antonio  arrived  in  Houston  at 
six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  Stopping  there 
for  supper  and  a  change  of  engines  it  then 
hastens  on  its  way  to  New  Orleans. 

Bob  and  I  had  figured  up  our  expendi- 
tures for  Galveston  and  Houston,  consist- 
ing of  our  hotel  accommodations,  together 
with  a  few  souvenirs  we  had  purchased  at 
the  beach  in  Galves- 
ton, and  we  found 
that  we  had  cash 
in  hand,  just  enough 
to  buy  one  straight 
ticket  to  New 
Orleans.  To  many, 
this  would  have 
been  a  rather  awk- 
ward position  to  be 
placed  in,  but  we  did 
not  see  it  in  that 
way.  We  both  had 
our  watches  with 
us,  and  there  was 
no  reason  why  they 
should  not  travel 
with  a  "C.O.D." 
tag  attached  to 
them,  forward  in 
the  express  car,  as 
they  had  often  done  before,  while  their  own- 
ers lounged  in  the  parlor  car  assuming  the 
air  of  an  Eastern  capitalist. 

Bob  was  a  man  who  believed  in  having 
several  cards  to  play.  The  watches  were 
the  last  card  played  in  all  cases.  A 
visit  down  the  street  in  Houston  to 


"  A  visit  dovm  the  street  in  Hous- 
ton to  some  of  the  cut  rate  ticket 
broken." 


ON  THE  OTHER  FELLOW'S  TICKET. 


some  of  the  cut  rate  ticket  brokers  left  Bob 
in  possession  of  two  tickets.  They  read 
originally  from  El  Paso  to  New  Orleans, 
the  coupon  calling  for  the  distance  between 
El  Paso  and  Houston  having  already  been 
used  and  detached,  and  the  time  limit  ex- 
pired on  the  following  day. 

This  limit  as  to  time  was  not  the  only 
objection  or  undesirability  of  the  "job 
lot  "of  transportation  Bob  had  secured. 
They  each  had  carefully  written  upon  them 
a  detailed  description  of  the  original  buy- 
ers, who  had  signed  an  agreement  with  the 
railroad  company  that,  on  account  of  the 
reduced  price  under  which  they  were  sold, 
they  could  only  be  used  by  the  original  pur- 
chaser, etc. 

The  points  of  identification  on  one  of  the 
tickets  would  allow  Bob  to  pass  on  it 
without  creating  any  suspicions  as  to  his 
not  being  the  original  purchaser. 

As  I  read  over  the  description  on  my 
ticket  of  the  man  whom  I  was  supposed 
to  represent,  I  was  prepared  to  meet, 
to  a  reasonable  limit,  any  little  defects 
nature  had  overlooked  in  my  make  up 
which  would  allow  me  to  pass  as  the  aver- 
age commonplace  traveller,  but  the  marks 
of  recognition  its  first  owner  set  down 
there  on  that  ticket  w as  a  picture  in  "  black 
and  white  "which  very  few  of  our  later 
day  artists  would  even  attempt  to  draw, 
certainly  much  less  attempt  to  imperson- 
ate. 

I  asked  Bob  if  he  had  read  my  descrip- 
tion. 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  he,  "the  price  is  all 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


that  I  was  interested  in.  Didn't  I  get  the 
two  tickets  for  the  price  of  one  ?  All  the 
rest  will  be  easy  enough — -just  bluff  it 
through,  old  man.  What  do  you  care 
whether  he  had  red  hair  or  not?  " 

It  then  dawned  upon  me  that  Bob  was 
fully  acquainted  with  the  undertaking  I 
had  on  hand. 

I  was  to  pass  on  the  trip  as  a  man  over 
the  usual  height, with  red  hair,  brown  mus- 
tache and  chin  whiskers,  a  scar  on  the  right 


cheek  bone,  and  weighing  one  hundred 
and  thirty -eight  pounds.  The  inventory  oi 
my  own  appearance,  if  correctly  taken, 
would  read:— height  five  feet  eleven  inches, 
black  hair,  black  moustache,  and  weight, 
one  hundred  and  sixty-five  pounds. 

Bob  announced  at  this  juncture  in  the 
proceedings  that  no  comparisons  would 
be  allowed  in  this  particular  case.  His 
contention  was  exactly  this :  that  I  had 
been  ill  for  several  days — in  fact  at  that 
very  minute  I  should  be  confined  to  mv 
64 


ON  THE  OTHER  FELLOWS  TICKET. 


"I  was  gently  assisted  over  the  platforms  and  Into  the  car 


A  DRUMMERS  IARLOR  STORIES. 

room  and  bed,  and  a  close  watch  kept  over 
me.  For  the  next  twelve  hours  he,  Bob, 
was  to  be  my  nurse  and  physician.  After 
hearing  my  case  so  ably  discussed,  I  began 
to  think  I  really  did  need  care  as  well  as 
protection. 

The  time  had  arrived  for  the  start  to  the 
train.  Although  it  was  understood  that 
I  was  a  very  sick  man,  Bob  insisted  that  I 
was  to  carry  my  share  of  the  hand  bags  as 
far  as  the  depot.  My  "little  act"  was  to 
begin  after  our  arrival  at  the  station.  Un- 
der Bob's  direction  the  colored  porters  in 
charge  of  the  car  in  which  our  berths  were 
located,  came  hurriedly  into  the  waiting- 
room,  and  seeing  the  helpless  and  woe-be- 
gone  appearance  I  had  "put  up,"  imme- 
diately singled  me  out  as  the  sick  passen- 
ger in  "  Lower  Number  Six."  I  was  gent\y 
assisted  over  the  platforms  and  into  the  car, 
where  Bob  hurriedly  got  me  into  bed  and 
out  of  sight  of  curious  eyes. 

The  closeness  and  stuffiness  of  parlor  car 
berths  even  under  the  most  favorable  con- 
ditions are  bad,  but  think  of  being  shut  up 
in  one  with  the  temperature  registering 
one  hundred  and  ten  degrees  in  the  shade ! 
But  I  was  in  for  it  and  had  to  help  Bob 
get  me  through.  To  make  matters  wrorse, 
we  had  been  told  that  the  ticket  "spot- 
ters" had  just  been  over  the  road,  and  all 
conductors  were  on  the  "lookout." 

The  train  was  quickly  speeding  on  its 
way  toward  Newr  Orleans,  writh  Bob  on 
sentry  duty  outside  my  berth  curtains. 
Now  and  then  in  answer  to  my  questions 
as  to  how  long  he  expected  me  to  roast  in 
66 


ON  THE  OTHER  FELLOW'S  TICKET. 

that  oven,  he  would  gruffly  command  me 
to  "  get  back  into  your  cage  there  and  shut 
up,"   or  to   "forget  the  heat"   or  "duck 
your  head  there,  old  chap." 
Presently  there  came  a  sound  to  my  ears 


••  Bob's  voice  I  could  hear,  as  lie  told  ihe  conductor  of  the  sick 
friend  who  occupied  '  Lower  lumber  Six.'  " 

•which,  from  the  earnestness  of  the  tones  of 
the  voices,  warned  me  that  my  case  was 
up  before  the  conductor.  Bob's  voice  I 
could  hear,  above  the  roar  of  the  car,  as  he 
told  the  conductor  of  the  sick  friend  who 
occupied  "Lower  Number  Six,"  whose 
67 


A  DRUMMER' S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

ticket  he  could  present  with  his  own,  and 
would  he  be  kind  enough  to  allow  the 
porter  to  help  him  safely  carry  his  friend  to 
a  comfortable  conveyance  when  we  reached 
New  Orleans. 

The  conductor  said  he  would  do  all  in 
his  power  to  make  the  sick  man  comforta- 
ble, and  he  would  also  telegraph  ahead  to 
the  company  to  have,  when  the  train 
reached  our  destination,  one  of  the  invalid 
rolling  chairs  meet  the  car. 

As  soon  as  the  sound  of  the  voices  died 
away,  I  got  out  from  under  the  covers,  just 
in  time  to  meet  Bob's  grinning  face  pushed 
in  between  the  curtains.  All  he  said  was 
— "Say  Pop,  you  owe  me  the  price  of  a 
ticket  from  Houston  to  New  Orleans." 


Death  of  the  Loved 
Unknown. 


Death  of  the  Loved 
Unknown. 


[HE  friendships  and  acquaintances  ex- 
|]  isting  among  the  travelling  salesmen 
are  interesting  and  remarkable  in  many 
ways.  The  formality  of  an  introduction 
is  very  seldom  resorted  to,  and  oftentimes 
acquaintances  are  kept  up  for  several  years 
without  either  knowing  the  other's  name, 
greeting  when  they  meet  with,  say,"  Hello, 
there,  'Hard ware! '"or  "How-de-do,  'Col- 
lars and  Cuffs,'  I  haven't  run  across  you  in 
a  year ! " — and  if  the  routes  of  each  be  in  a 
different  direction  it  may  be  another  year 
before  these  particular  two  meet  again. 
It  may  be,  though,  in  three  months  that 
they  find  themselves  seated  opposite  each 
other  at  dinner  table  in  some  hotel  or  rail- 

71 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

road-eating  house.  Then  a  cordial  greeting 
again  is  exchanged,  an  inquiry  as  to  busi- 
ness may  be  passed,  and  good  wishes  ex- 
tended on  each  side  for  future  success. 

No  particular  inquiry  has  been  made 
as  to  what  city  each  hailed  from  originally, 
or  what  cither's  name  might  be,  yet  a  friend- 
ship is  developing.  During  the  intervening 
time  both  have  been  successful  in  standing 
the  severe  test  of  success  "  on  the  road," 
and  unconsciously  one  finds  a  place  in  the 
heart  and  estimation  of  the  other.  Possibly 
if  chance  throws  them  together  again  they 
may  be  guilty  of  the  pastime  of  exchang- 
ing names. 

My  readers,  then,  can  readily  understand 
how  it  could  be  that,  on  one  of  the  Southern 
circuit  trips  of  our  party  of  eight  salesmen 
whom  (outside  of  Bob  and  myself)  chance 
and  amiability  had  brought  together,  we 
could  be  thoroughly  well  acquainted  with- 
out knowing  the  full  names  of  each  indi- 
vidual. 

Billie  Robinson,  who  sold  fine  jewelery, 
was  known  as  "Billie  the  Pearl, "and  when 
the  sad  misfortune  which  snatched  poor 
Billie  from  our  very  arms  into  eternity, 
overtook  our  little  band  of  big-hearted, 
congenial  comrades,  no  casual  observer 
could  fail  to  feel  that  the  death  of  the 
"  Loved  Unknown  "  was  mourned  with  a 
silent  grief  only  possible  among  broad- 
minded,  tender-hearted,  charitable  fel- 
lows. 

Billie  had  become  a  general  favorite. 
Unassuming,  retiring  in  his  manner ,  gentle- 
manly and  kind,  he  always  had  a  pleas- 

72   " 


DEATH  OF  THE  LOVED  UNKNOWN. 


ant  smile  and  a  cheering  word  for  us  all. 
We  all  liked  Billie. 

Many  might  wonder  how  a  person  of  his 
description  could  succeed  in  the  capacity  of 
salesman  "on  the  road,"  but  a  close  ob- 


••  neyflna  themselves  seated  opposite  each  other  at  Mnner  table." 

server  of  character  could  easily  explain  the 
secret  of  his  success.  It  was  in  his  con- 
scientious work.  He  believed  his  firm  manu- 
factured the  best  jewelerj'  on  the  market; 
they  had  entrusted  him  with  the  sale  of  it, 
and  his  convictions  coupled  with  his  cour- 

73 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

age  and  natural  talents  had  made  him  a 
success  in  his  business  and  a  man  beloved 
by  his  companions. 

It  was  in  Memphis,  Tennessee,  in  the  lat- 
ter part  of  June,  our  little  party  of  tourists 
was  to  meet  at  the  six  o'clock  evening 
train  on  a  large  float  guided  by  two  pow- 
erful tugs  which  crossed  the  Mississippi 
River  to  the  Arkansas  side.  The  river  at 
this  point  is  several  miles  wide,  and  during 
high  tide  the  current  is  swift  and  danger- 
ous. 

It  was  Billie's  turn  to  do  "satchel 
duty  " — i.  e.,  to  see  that  the  hand  baggage 
of  each  in  the  company  had  been  brought 
from  the  depot  to  the  hotel  and  put  aboard 
the  train.  This  arrangement  gave  every 
saleman  (except  the  one  on  duty)  a  chance 
to  give  the  full  time  to  business,  catching 
the  train  from  -whatever  point  in  the  city 
he  chanced  to  be  in. 

On  this  fateful  evening  three  of  the  pas- 
senger coaches  were  detached  from  the 
train  and  backed  down  upon  one  of  the 
tracks  on  the  float.  Billie,  with  the  hand- 
bags, was  forward  in  the  coach  which  was 
coupled  with  the  smoker  and  baggage  car 
still  upon  the  main  line.  Before  his  section 
of  the  train  w as  sent  down  upon  the  launch, 
we  had  all  stepped  off  the  car  platform 
of  our  train  section  upon  the  deck,  and 
stood  commenting  upon  the  swollen  and 
dangerous  appearance  of  the  river  as,  filled 
with  logs  and  driftwood  from  up  the  coun- 
try, it  swept  angrily  past. 

We  were  warned  of  the  approach  of  the 
second  section  of  our  train  bv  Billie,  who 
74 


DEATH  OF  77/7?  LOVED  UNKNOIVX. 


shouted  from  the  rear  platform,  "  Out  of 
the  way,  fellows,  and  give  the  expresrman 
a  chance. ' '  We  all  looked  up  in  admiration 
of  our  favorite.  There  he  stood  in  his 
long  linen  duster,  hat  in  hand,  smiling  and 


"  There  he.  alnnd  in  h!  a  Intm  Ihi.'n  ,ti<atijr,  hat  in  luiiul,  mniliny  ' 


totally    oblivious,   like    ourselves,    of  the 
danger  he  was  in. 

He  stood  sidewise  to  us  and  opposite  the 
opening  in  the  railing  on  the  middle  of  the 
ear  platform.     The  brakes  did  not  seem  to- 
75 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


respond  to  the  efforts  of  the  brakeman, 
and  the  cars  still  went  on  with  an  unless- 
ened  speed  as  they  neared  the  bumper  at 
the  end  of  the  track  on  the  float. 

Poor  Billie !  Before  he  could  grasp  the 
situation,  or  we  utter  a  warning,  the  crash 
of  the  collision  occurred,  and  we  saw  him, 
losing  his  balance,  pitched  headlong  into 
the  raging  stream. 

With  a  cry  of  horror  we  rushed  to  the 
edge  of  the  boat;  two  of  us  flung  off  coats 
and  hats,  prepared  for  a  plunge  should  he 
come  to  the  surface,  but  we  were  disap- 
pointed even  in  that. 

A  small  boat  pushed  out  immediately 
from  lower  down  stream,  but  the  body  of 
Billie  was  never  recovered.  It  was  sup- 
posed that  he  either  became  entangled  in 
the  wet  folds  of  his  expansive  linen  duster 
or  that  in  his  fall  had  struck  headforemost 
against  one  of  the  floating  logs  which 
filled  the  stream,  and  never  came  to  the 
surface. 

The  officials  held  the  train  until  all  hope 
of  immediate  recovery  of  the  bod}-  was 

fpne,  then  we  pushed  out  for  our  next  stop, 
ine  Bluffs,  Arkansas. 

The  situation  was  a  sad  and  an  awk- 
ward one.  A  devoted  companion  had  gone 
from  us,  a  business  firm  hadlost  avaluable 
representative,  and  a  sample  case  filled 
with  costly  jewelery  had  no  owner  nearer 
than — we  did  not  know  where. 

It    dawned    upon    our   little    band    of 

mourners  that  we  had  some  sacred  duties 

to  perform.    The  first  question  asked  was, 

"Where  did  Billlie  travel  from?"  We  all 

76 


DEATH  OF  THE  LOVED  UNKNOWN. 


knew  in  a  general  way  that  he  represented 
a  large  firm  in  an  Eastern  city,  but  none 
knew  where,  definitely. 

Another  curious  fact  also  developed, — 
Billie's  full  name  was  not  known  to  any  of 
the  party,  and  neither  had  we  heard  him 
say  anything  about  his  family  or  domestic 
affairs.  We  all  knew  and  felt  this,  how- 


"  He  chewea.  the  encl  of  an  unlit  cigar,  and  was  looking  with  a 
far  away,  sad  expression  out  of  the  window." 

ever — that  away  back  in  his  home,  wher- 
ever it  might  be,  the  news  of  his  death 
would  pain  the  hearts  of  many  loved  ones 
and  admiring  friends. 

None  of  our  party  seemed  willing  to  as- 
sume the  lead  in  the  investigation  of  Billie's 
effects,  to  ascertain  the  facts  in  regard  to 
his  identity — which  it  was  necessarj--  for  us 
77 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

to  know  before  we  reached  the  next  tele- 
graph station,  in  order  to  notify  the  au- 
thorities in  Memphis,  and  also  to  com- 
municate with  his  home. 

It  was  remarkable  to  see  the  varied 
ways  in  which  Billie's  death  showed  its 
effect  upon  the  different  temperaments  of 
our  company.  Under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, there  were  men  among  us  who 
were  given  the  preference,  undisputed,  in 
conversation,  in  their  judgment  upon  daily 
questions  arising  in  connection  with  our 
business  pursuits  and  any  discussions  which 
might  come  up.  From  these  men  it  was 
natural  for  the  rest  of  us  to  expect  that  in 
a  time  like  the  present  they  would  be  the 
active  and  competent  advisers.  Rough  in 
their  dealings  with  men,  uncouth  in  man- 
ner, and  unaccustomed  to  the  refining  in- 
fluences which  surround  many  in  different 
circumstances,  it  might  be  thought  that 
grief  would  tap  but  lightly,  if  at  all,  at  the 
door  leading  to  their  emotions. 

Gathered  in  the  smoking-car  in  seats  fac- 
ing each  other,  an  observer  would  have 
noted  among  the  rest,  a  muscular,  brown- 
visaged  man,  the  deeply  furrowed  lines  in 
his  cheeks  telling  of  years  of  contact  with 
the  hard  and  relentless  world,  successes 
and  failures  holding  about  an  even  balance 
in  the  scales  of  fortune.  He  chewed  the 
end  of  an  unlit  cigar  and  was  looking  with 
a  far-away,  sad  expression  on  his  face,  out 
of  the  rapidly  moving  car  window. 

If  you  watched  him  closely  you  would 
frequently  see  a  rapid  succession  of  quiver- 
ing winks  of  the  eyelids.  His  silence  WEI  s 
"  78 


DP: ATI!  OF  THE  LOVED  UNKNOWN. 


an  unconscious  act,  his  meditation  was  a 
sacred  tribute  to  the  present.  We  knew  at 
once  our  comrade  opposite  was  thinking, 
not  only  of  the  death  of  Billie,  but  of  some 
shattered  dream  of  happiness  in  his  own 
life. 

As  soon  as  he  realized  that  we  had  all 
silently  chosen  that  he  should  be  the  one 
to  proceed  with  the  opening  of  Billie's  grip, 
to  see  if  we  could  find  any  information 
about  his  home,  he  turned  to  us  and  said : 

"  Bo}rs,  Billie  is  buried  in  the  same  grave 
that  buried  my  only  son,  Tom,  ten  years 
ago.  A  hasty  message  was  sent  by  his 
comrades  to  mother  and  meat  Harrisburg, 
Pa.  It  was  short  and  true — but  too  short 
and  too  true. 

"We  will  tell  them  at  home  that  Billie 
has  gone  on  a  long  trip,  that  he  won't  be 
back  for  the  Christmas  holidays,  for  where 
he  has  gone,  there  diamonds  and  pearls  do 
not  need  to  be  bought  or  sold.  We  will  tell 
them  that  Billie  has  reached  that  land,  of 
which  it  is  written, — '  The  foundations  of 
the  \vall  of  the  city  are  garnished  with  all 
manner  of  precious  stones  .  .  .  and 
every  several  gate  is  of  one  pearl :  and  the 
street  of  the  city  is  pure  gold,  as  it  were 
transparent  glass.' " 


79 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


DON'T  STOP  AT  THE  STATION 
DESPAIR. 

BY  JOAQUIN   MILLER. 


We  must  trust  the  Conductor  most  surely 

Why,  millions  on  millions  before 
Have  made  this  same  journey  securely 

And  come  to  that  ultimate  shore. 
And  we,  we  will  reach  it  in  season; 

And  ah,  what  a  welcome  is  there  ! 
Reflect,  then,  how  out  of  all  reason 

To  stop  at  the  station  Despair. 

Aye,  midnights  and  many  a  potion 

Of  little  black  water  have  we 
As  we  journey  from  ocean  to  ocean — 

From  sea  unto  ultimate  sea — 
To  that  deep  sea  of  seas,  and  all  silence 

Of  passion,  concern,  and  of  care — 
That  vast  sea  of  Eden-set  islands— 

Don't  stop  at  the  station  Despair  ! 

Go  forward,  whatever  may  follow; 

Go  forward,  friend -led  or  alone. 
Ah,  me,  to  leap  off  in  some  hollow 

Or  fen,  in  the  night  and  unknown — 
Leap  off  like  a  thief;  try  to  hide  you 

From  angels,  all  waiting  you  there ! 
Go  forward  !  whatever  betide  you 

Don't  stop  at  the  station  Despair  ! 


sti 


Into  the  Moonshine  Country. 


L—  I  Kicked  Your  Dog. 

II.—  A  Piece  of  Friendly  Advice. 

IIL-You  Match  Me. 


I  Kicked  Your  Dog. 


JALES  of  lawlessness  and  a  total  dis- 
regard of  the  civilizing  influences 
which  go  hand  in  hand  with  a  higher  edu- 
cation in  the  thickly  populated  parts  of 
the  States,  frequently  reach  us  through 
newspaper  reports  from  certain  sections  of 
our  resourceful  country.  Eastern  Tennes- 
see, parts  of  West  Virginia,  eastern  Ken- 
tucky, and  in  fact,  remote  sections  of 
almost  every  state,  all  have  their  "black 
sheep"  corner. 

It  fell  to  my  lot  early  in  my  travelling 
career  to  visit  a  section  of  the  State  of 
Kentucky,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Big  Sandy 
River,  where,  at  the  present  writing,  many 
an  older  and  seasoned  traveller  might  well 
hesitate  to  vent  ire. 

83 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


Cattletsburg,  a  town  of  a  few  hundred 
inhabitants,  lines  the  bank  of  the  Ohio  a 
a  distance  of  several  blocks.  It  enjoyed 
the  distinction  of  being  the  headquarters 
of  the  raftsmen  coming  down  the  Big 
Sandy  to  form  a  junction  with  the  Ohio 
River.  It  was  also  the  market-pi  ace  for  the 
illicit  corn  whiskey  distilled  in  the  moun- 
tains by  the  enterprising  mountaineers, 
wrhose  almost  inaccessible  domain  this 
uncertain  river  traversed.  The  stills,  hid- 
den under  crags  and  side  hills,  the  locations 
of  which  were  known  only  to  the  owners 
and  a  trusted  member  of  the  family,  were 
objects  of  the  most  desperate  and  daring 
research  made  by  the  state  officials,  the 
hated  sheriffs. 

Cattletsburg,  although  small  and  insig- 
nificant in  itself,  as  compared  with  other 
business  centres  in  different  parts  of  the 
state,  contained  one  large  and  prosperous 
general  store.  The  firm  with  whom  I  was 
engaged  had  long  desired  to  have  a  line  of 
goods  which  they  manufactured,  intro- 
duced for  sale  into  that  section  of  the  coun- 
try through  this  particular  merchant. 
Either  the  former  representatives  of  my 
firm  had  refused  to  risk  their  destinies 
by  boldly  walking  into  the  very  haunts  of 
the  enemies  of  reciprocity  and  "intercourse 
with  the  outside  world,  or  else  I  was  se- 
lected as  the  one,  who,  from  a  youthful, 
inoffensive  and  non-combative  appear- 
ance, was  the  least  calculated  to  be  taken 
as  an  accomplice  of  the  government  depu- 
ties in  search  of  "moonshine"  evidence, 
or  a  sympathizer  of  the  never  ending 


I  KICKED   YOUR  DOG. 


feuds  of  the  Hatfields,  McCoys  or  Masons 
However  it  came  about,  I  was  told  to 
go,  and  the  same  letter  from  my  firm  in- 
formed me  that  the  merchant  at  Cattlets- 
burg  would  be  expecting  me.  Nothing 
better  could  have  been  said  which  would 
have  had  the  effect  in  strengthening  my 
courage  to  go  anywhere  than  that  a 


1  To  satisfy  my  wavering  hopes,  /  read  again  and  again  tlie  letter.' 


prominent  merchant  was  "waiting  'til  I 
came."  My  importance  as  a  valuable  man 
increased  from  that  moment. 

From  Parkersburg,  West  Virginia,  I  trav- 
elled on  the  Ohio  River  Railroad  toward 
Cattletsburg.  En  route  I  busied  myself  by 
re-arranging  my  samples,  which  I  took  out 
and  returned  again  to  my  sample  case, 
S3 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

which  lay  open  on  the  double  seat  before 
me,  all  the  while  building  air  castles  of 
great  deeds  in  large  sales,  "the  loikes  of 
such  orders"  my  firm  had  never  had  sent 
them. 

As  time  passed,  I  noticed,  with  an  in- 
creasing concern,  that  the  tout  ensemble 
of  the  passengers  in  my  coach  had  changed 
since  leaving  Parkersburg,  and  that  at  each 
station  we  stopped  at  as  we  neared  my 
destination,  I  saw  one  after  another  of  my 
original  travelling  companions  leave  the- 
train,  and  those  who  took  their  places,  to 
my  way  of  thinking,  did  not  inspire  me 
with  a  desire  to  make  any  of  their  acquaint- 
ance. As  the  car  began  to  fill  up,  I  turned 
back  the  extra  seat  I  had  appropriated , 
and  chose  to  hobnob  with  my  sample  case 
as  a  more  agreeable  and  trusty  companion 
than  I  had  "sized  up"  the  "shifty  "  look- 
ing lot  of  citizens  to  be  who  surrounded 
me. 

I  began  to  think  that  my  train  had 
crossed  the  border  into  some  "unfrequented 
and  uninhabited  country.  In  the  places  at 
which  we  stopped,  nothing  was  to  be  seen 
in  the  way  of  busy  streets  and  well  kept 
lawns  and  fences,  but  on  the  contrary,  to 
use  a  slang  expression,  things  were  "  on 
the  blink." 

Railroad  stations  were  uninviting.  The 
name  of  the  stop  on  the  signboard  could 
scarcely  be  read.  Men  stood  about  in 
slouched  felt  hats,  their  dirty  jean  trous- 
ers tucked  into  their  boot  tops,  beards  un- 
kempt, round,  stoop  shouldered,  their 
hands  pushed  down  into  their  pockets,  and 


/  KICKED   YOUR  DOG. 


as  they  rolled  a  tremendous  quid  of  to- 
bacco around  in  their  mouths  and  slunked 
away  with  the  passing  of  the  train,  I  began 
to  question  the  authenticity  of  my  letter 
from  the  firm.  To  satisfy  my  wavering 
hopes,  I  read  again  and  again  the  letter 
telling  me  to  "go  to  Cattletsburg ;  they 
were  waiting  for  me  there." 

The  train  passes 
in  the  rear  of  Cat- 
tletsburg at  a  dis- 
tance of  about  a 
five  minutes'  walk. 
A  wide  cinder  path 
leads  up  from  the 
depot  to  the  main 
street  of  the  town. 
Alighting  from  the 
train  with  myself 
came  the  greater 
number  of  the  pas- 
sengers who  occu- 
pied the  car  with 
me.  As  I  walked 
along  the  platform 
using  my  regular 
tactics  of  folio w- 
ing  the  crowd  in  a 
strange  place,  I 

came  up  to  a  muscular  young  fellow  in 
charge  of  a  large  sized  wheelbarrow. 

"  Want  a  hotel,  young  fellow?  "  says  he. 
"  Only  one  here.  I  will  wheel  her  up  (mean- 
ing my  grip)  for  'two  bits.'  I  guess 
you'll  come." 

I  did  come,  and  was  very  glad  to  accept 
him  as  an  escort. 

87 


"  '  Want  a  hotel,  young  fellow  t ' 
says  he.    '  Only  one  here.' " 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


The  procession  up  to  the  town  was  an 
exciting  one,  and  full  of  interest  before  we 
reached  the  hotel.  The  passengers  walking 
toward  the  town  had  formed  into  three 
squads .  Two  separate  squads  of  my  fellow 
passengers  of  the  "shifty"  type  were  a 
little  in  advance  of  myself  and  the  man  who 
propelled  the  wheelbarrow. 


" '  Nam  slope  with  me,  young  one.'1 " 

Just  to  be  "in  the  swim,"  I  suppose,  and 
to  lend  a  gist  and  finish  to  our  advance 
on  Cattletsburg,  a  shaggy,  wet,  ill-kept 
and  faded  yellow  dog  trotted  in  the  line. 
Following  the  natural  bent  of  their  feel- 
ings, some  fellow  in  the  second  group  called 
out  to  the  first  lot  of  visitors : 

"Hey,  stranger,  I  kicked  your  dog." 


/  KICKED   YOUK  DOG. 


One  of  the  group  addressed,  replied, 

"  'Taint  my  dog,  no  how." 

"Wall,  I'd  a  kicked  him  anyhow,  if  he 
were.  Naow  smoke  that."  says  the  first 
gent. 

My  man  of  the  wheelbarrow  turned  to 
me,  and  in  a  tone  of  voice  which  meant  im- 
mediate action,  said  quickly : 

"Those  dubs  mean  to  get  acquainted, 
and  there's  going  to  be  a  '  mix '  mighty 
soon.  Now  'slope'  with  me,  young  one." 
And  without  waiting  to  see  the  "finish," 
I  was  landed  hurriedly  at  the  hotel,  very 
glad  to  pay  over  the  "two  bits"  for  my  safe 
delivery  and  that  of  my  sample  case. 


(Continued  in  -A  PIECE  OF  FRIENDLY 
ADVICE.") 


II. 

A  Piece  of  Friendly  Advice. 


A  Piece  of  Friendly 
Advice. 


IT  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing of  this  misty  November  day  when 

inscribed  my  name  upon  the  register  of 
the  City  Hotel  in  Cattletsburg,  and  already 
the  shades  of  darkness  had  added  to  the 
gloomy  appearance  presented  by  the  dingy 
hotel,  dilapidated  sidewalks  and  the  muddy 
street,  \vhich  ran  parallel  with  the  river 
and  was  flanked  by  a  single  row  of  squatty 
and  uneven  buildings,  which  represented 
(with  the  single  exception  of  the  concern  I 
had  come  to  call  upon)  the  business  por- 
tion of  the  town. 

I  was  no  longer  the  confident  and  impor- 
tant personage  I  had  figured  myself  to  be 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

earlier  in  the  day.  Somehow  my  hat  seemed 
big  for  my  head,  and  my  waistcoat  was  too 
loose  about  the  chest.  I  was  in  the  town, 
though,  \vhere  the  merchant  -with  a  large 
and  prosperous  business  was  awaiting  my 
coming.  I  had  just  re-read  the  letter  from 
my  firm,  and  was  disgusted  at  myself  for 
losing,  for  the  time  being,  a  proper  self- 
appreciation.  Getting  out  my  business 
card  and  placing  it  in  a  convenient  pocket, 
I  set  out  with  a  renewed  vigor  to  find  my 
man. 

This  proved  an  easy  task,  for  down  at 
the  end  of  the  block,  with  the  front  of  the 
building  facing  full  up  the  street,  stood  a 
large,  modern  built,  and  well  appointed 
store  building.  The  sight  of  this  had  a 
tendency  to  revive  in  me  an  eagerness  to 
"get  at  'em"  for  the  orders.  Having  filled 
out  my  waistcoat  again  to  the  full  dimen- 
sions, and  my  hat  being  a  better  fit  in  con- 
sequence, I  marched  into  the  establishment 
with  a  stride,  and  a  manner  befitting  my 
important  mission  and  the  commercial 
standing  of  the  firm  which  I  had  the  honor 
of  representing. 

I  made  inquiry  as  to  the  whereabouts  of 
the  proprietor,  and  with  a  jerk  of  his 
thumb  over  his  shoulder,  accompanied  b}- 
a  curious  look,  the  clerk  indicated  where 
the  boss  could  be  found. 

I  went  in  the  direction  pointed  out  to 
me  and  found  Mr.  Carter,  the  proprietor, 
standing  in  the  midst  of  several  piles  of  hat 
boxes  which  hid  him,  except  for  his  head 
and  shoulders,  from  view.  He  was  en- 
gaged in  checking  off  the  quantities  from 


A  PIECE  OF  FRIENDL  Y  ADVICE. 


"With  ajerk  of  Ins  thumb  over  hit  shouluer,  ihe  clerk  indicated 
where  the  boss  couhl  be,  found." 


95 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


the  bill  he  had  received  for  his  latest  pur- 
chase, and  was  marking  the  retail  prices 
upon  the  bottoms  of  the  boxes. 

Before  I  could  speak,  not  knowing  that 
he  had  noticed  me,  he  addressed  me  thus : 

"Howdy,  Boy!  Don't  live  in  Kentucky 
I  reckon  Don't  look  like  }rou  come  from 
up  Cinc'nata  way,  nuther.  Want  to  talk 
to  me,  son?" 

The  tone  of  Mr.  Carter's  voice  reassured 
me.  I  produced  my  card  and  sailed  in,  first 
repeating  that  my  firm  had  corresponded 
with  him  regarding  my  coming,  and  that  I 
was  prepared  to  quote  prices  and  to  book 
him  ahead  on  the  next  season's  styles. 

Mr.  Carter  at  first  took  on  a  look  of  sur- 
prise which  soon  changed  to  one  of  amuse- 
ment, and  cutting  me  short  in  my  present- 
ment of  the  case,  expressed  himself  in  these 
words : 

"I  don't  know  nuthin'  'bout  this  yere 
you  been  tellin'  me.  I  reckon  your  people 
done  made  a  mistake,  for  I  didn't  get  no 
letter,  sure  'nuf." 

The  look  of  deep  disappointment  and 
chagrin  which,  at  this  unexpected  an- 
nouncement, passed  over  my  face,  must 
have  aroused  the  interest  and  sympathy 
of  the  merchant.  Before  I  could  recover 
myself  from  the  paralyzing  shock  I  had  re- 
ceived, Mr.  Carter  turned  to  me,  and  in  a 
kind,  fatherly  tone  of  voice,  said : 

"  Son,  I  reckon  you  won't  mind.  I  know 
these  yere  parts  a  heap.  It  will  be  power- 
ful dark  soon,  and  my  advice  is  to  git  in 
under  cover.  These  yere  Big  Sandy  '  'shin- 
ers'is 'bout  lookin'  for  trouble,  an'  they 
96 


A  PIECE  OF  FRIENDLY  ADVICE. 


might  calklate  gittin'  reckless  with  you. 
Come  back  in  the  mornin'  and  tell  me  'bout 
that  letter  your  firm  done  send  me." 

Calling  to   one  of  the  colored    porters 
who  stood  near,  he  ordered  him  thus : 


'  He.  loas  marking  the  retail  prices  upon  the  bottoms  of  th 


"Heah,  nigger!  Carry  this^  gemnian 
'round  to  the  hotel  right  quick.  Now 
watch  out  for  'itn." 

I  thanked  him  kindly,  and  wishing  him 
a  good  night,  hurried  with  my  body  guard 
back  to  the  hotel. 

97 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 


That  night,  needless  to  say,  I  spent  at 
home.  I  did  not  care  to  wander  up  and 
down  the  one  street  of  the  town,  nor  to 
stand  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  absently 
gazing  at  the  slanting  rays  of  the  moon- 
light as  it  played  on  the  yellow  flabby 
wavelets  caused  by  the  uniting  waters  of 
the  Big  Sandy  and  Ohio. 

The  company  I  found  indoors  at  the  City 
Hotel  were  sufficiently  interesting  and  en- 
tertaining in  their  way  to  influence  me  to 
remain  under  the  protection  of  my  friend 
of  the  wheelbarrow  episode,  who  acted  as 
Tny  especial  sponsor  while  I  remained 
about  the  hotel. 

After  a  comfortable  night's  rest  and  a 
calm  review  of  the  situation,  I  -went  around 
bright  and  early  next  morning  to  Mr. 
Carter's  store.  I  found  him  in  a  very 
amiable  mood,  inclined  to  listen  to  what 
I  had  to  say,  and  from  an  amused  atti- 
tude at  first,  he  fell  into  the  interested 
state,  and  then  to  his  own  surprise  and 
my  apparent  advantage,  he  began  to  buy 
from  the  samples  of  the  lines  of  goods  I  had 
shown  him,  'til  his  purchases  amounted 
to  a  very  respectable  bill. 

After  the  usual  exchanges  of  invitations 
of  a  business  nature,  I  returned  to  my 
hotel  to  await  the  next  train  which  would 
carry  me  back  from  West  Virginia  soil  to 
the  land  in  God's  country  beyond  the  Big 
Sandy. 

Upon  the  next  trip  of  the  Cincinnati 
drummer,  who  had  been  selling  to  the  Cat- 
tletsburg  firm  for  years,  he  found  himself 
supplanted,  and  by  a  tenderfoot  at  that. 


A  PIECE  OF  FRIENDLY  ADVICE. 

The  president  of  the  company  for  whom 
I  \vent  with  such  great  expectations  to 
meet  the  merchant  who  was  "waiting  'til 
I  came,"  enjoys  a  good  laugh  even  now 
\vhen  he  recalls  the  successful  ruse  under 
which  he  placed  Mr.  Carter's  name  upon 
the  books  of  his  concern. 


(Continued  in  "  YOf  MATCH  ME.") 


99 


III. 

You  Match  Me. 


You  Match  Me. 


Y  success  of  the  morning  in  the  inter- 
est of  my  firm,  coupled  with  the  re- 
turn of  da^-light,  had  revived  within  me  a 
latent  spirit  of  adventure  and  recklessness, 
which  I  possess  to  a  mild  degree  under  fa- 
vorable conditions.  I  had  six  hours  of  a 
wait  for  the  train  which  was  to  carry  me 
away  from  the  exciting  and  interesting 
scenes  of  the  past  twenty  -four  hours,  back 
into  the  territory  where  I  would  quickly 
resume  the  humdrum  even  tenor  of  m 


The  night  before  the  morning  of  which  I 
write,  I  had  spent  observing  the  guests  at 
the  Cattletsburg  City  Hotel.  Outside  of 
myself,  I  think  they  were  all  residents  of 
the  town  or  of  the  nearby  country,  com- 
posed principally  of  raftsmen,  boatmen, 
and  mountaineers.  The  bar-room  of  the 
hotel  and  the  office  were  the  popular  loung- 
ing places  of  the  village,  and  thither  came 
the  sports,  card  players,  checker  players, 
crap  shooters,  and  the  penny  matchers. 
103 


A  DRUMMER'S  PARLOR  STORIES. 

The  spirit  of  gambling  was  developed  to 
an  amazing  degree  in  Cattletsburg. 

Several  groups  of  men  where  engaged  in 
what  is  commonly  known  as  the  innocent 
pastime  of  "matching  pennies."  I  was 
attracted  to  a  couple  of  the  "matchers" 
who  were  seated  at  a  small  stand  removed 
from  the  other  players,  and  intensely  en- 
gaged in  carrying  on  a  game  which,  if  I 
had  seen  it  at  all  in  a  section  of  the  coun- 
try north  of  the  Mason  &  Dixon  line,  I 
would  have  passed  by  with  the  mental 
observation— a  childish  amusement  only. 

The  expression  on  the  faces  of  the  two 
players  at  first  interested  me,  and  from  my 
position  seated  by  the  wood-fire  stove  I 
moved  nearer  the  players.  Then  I  could 
hear  these  words  pronounced  in  a  monot- 
onous tone,  with  a  studied  lack  of  expres- 
sion or  inflection  of  the  voice,  "  Heads- 
Tails— Heads— Heads— Tails— Tails." 

Occasionally  the  conversation  between 
the  contestants  was  varied  by — "You 
match" — or  "I  raise  you  to  a  quarter." 
Each  "matcher"  had  the  privilege  to  call 
a  change  from  a  five-cent  match  to  a  ten- 
cent  or  a  twenty -five  cent  match.  Money 
was  changing  hands  rapidly.  No  loud  talk- 
ing, laughing  or  hilarity  of  any  kind,  cus- 
tomary with  games  of  chance,  went  with 
this  duet  of  "matchers." 

Although  I  had  become  interested  in  the 
game  and  fascinated  by  the  nerve  displayed 
by  the  players,  an  uncomfortable,  uneas\r 
feeling  seized  hold  upon  me.  One  of  the 
young  men,  the  son  of  the  proprietor  of  the 
hotel,  was  steadily  and  surely  adding  to 
his  pile  of  coin  from  that  of  his  opposite. 
104 


YOU  MATCH  ME. 


And  it  was  a  speculation  as  to  the  events 
which  might  follow  the  finish  of  that 
pile  that  caused  my  alarm.  I  had  learned 
thus  quickly  of  the  people  of  Cattletsburg 
that  the  master  of  an  extensive  vocabulary 
would  not  prevail  against  the  argument  of 
a  self-cocking  revolver.  Besides,  the  mer- 
chant, Mr.  Carter,  (now  my  friend),  had 


;  'Looking  at  imaginary  pictures  on  the  walls,  I  leisurely 
sauntered  out  of  sight  of  the  hotel  office," 

told  me  to  "git  in  under  cover."  So  with  a 
feigned  air  of  being  greatly  bored  with  the 
"childish"  amusement,  I  slid  my  hands 
into  my  trouser  pockets,  and  looking  at 
imaginary  pictures  on  the  walls,  leisurley 
sauntered  out  of  sight  of  the  hotel  office. 

My  peregrinations  had  brought  me  to  the 

foot    of    the    stairway    ( accident  all}',    of 

course),  and  without  looking  a  farewell  to 

the  "penny  matchers,"  I  bounded  up  the 

105 


A  DRUMMERS  PA  A  LOR  STORIES. 

stairs  four  steps  at  a  time,  and  into  my 
room  out  of  harm's  way. 

I  lay  awake  figuring  the  length  of  time  it 
would  take  for  the  winning  "matcher"  to 
get  the  whole  of  the  money  of  the  loser 
till  I  fell  into  a  sleep  and  dreams  filled  with 
noises  of  chinking  money  and  exploding 
revolvers. 


••  "Ifs  heads — for  a  dollar.'  " 

The  next  morning  as  I  sat  writing  out 
my  order  which  I  had  taken,  to  be  for- 
warded to  my  concern,  I  had  as  my  neigh- 
bor the  successful  winner  of  the  matching 
game  of  the  night  before.  As  usual  he  was 
quiet,  sa3ring  nothing  to  his  companions, 
some  of  -whom  sat  around  the  office.  He 
was  tilted  back  in  the  chair,  his  knees  and 
chin  keeping  close  company,  a  soft  felt  hat 
jammed  down  upon  his  head.  Occasion- 
ally he  straightened  up  and  expectorated 
tobacco  toward  the  box  of  sawdust  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor  which  acted  as  a  cuspi- 
dor. 

106 


YOU  MATCH  ME. 


While  we  were  each  pursuing  his  sepa- 
rate thoughts,  a  figure  appeared  in  the 
doorway.  I  looked  up  suddenly  and  rec- 
ognized the  newcomer  as  the  partner  with 
the  man  at  my  side  in  the  game  of  match- 
ing the  night  before.  He  was  also  recog- 
nized by  my  neighbor,  but  no  indications 
of  a  greeting  were  made.  Sullen  and  de- 
termined he  looked,  quietly  and  deliberate- 
ly he  \Ayalked  up  to  his  friend,  drew  a  chair 
alongside,  reached  into  his  pocket,  and  slap- 
ped a  coin  down  upon  his  knee,  as  he  said  : 

"  It's  heads— for  a  dollar." 

The  son  of  the  hotel  keeper  hesitated, 
looked  once,  and  only  once,  at  his  victim 
of  the  night  tefore. 

He  put  down  his  dollar  and  uncovered: 
it  was  tails— he  lost.  Not  a  word  was 

rken  by  either.     The  visitor  replaced  the 
ir  in  the  place  from  which  he  had  taken 
it,  took  a  fresh  chew  of  tobacco,  and  saun- 
tered off  down  the  street. 

The  man  at  my  elbow  ventured  no  re- 
marks. I  knew  that  an  expression  of  my 
sympathy  would  not  be  appreciated.  So  I 
did  the  only  wise  thing  left  for  me  to  do- 
politely  minded  my  own  affairs. 


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